Page 24 of Ace's Legacy
"But you want to know if I'm going to keep being that guy." It's not a question.
I nod. "If we're going to have this baby together, if we're going to co-parent or whatever we end up doing, I need to know who I'm dealing with."
He leans forward, elbows on his knees, suddenly intense. "I haven't been with anyone since that night with you."
The confession startles me. "It's only been seven weeks."
"Seven weeks is a long time in my world," he says with a self-deprecating smile that fades quickly. "But it's not just that. Something changed after you. I kept thinking about you, comparing other women to you and finding them lacking."
My cheeks warm at his words, but I force myself to stay focused. "So what are you saying? That you want to be with me now? Because I'm pregnant?"
"No," he says firmly. "I mean, yes, I want to be with you, but not because of the pregnancy. That just forced me to face feelings I was already having."
"Feelings," I repeat skeptically. "After one night?"
He looks frustrated, as if struggling to articulate something he's never had to put into words before. "I know how it sounds. But that night, talking with you at the diner before anything else happened... it was the first time in years I felt like myself. Not Ace, not the outlaw, just... me."
His sincerity is disarming. I remember that night too—how easily conversation flowed, how he listened when I talked about my students, how he made me laugh with stories about learning to ride a motorcycle. There had been a connection between us that went beyond physical attraction, though that had certainly been there too.
"I don't know what I'm doing here," he admits. "I've never done this before… The relationship thing. Never wanted to. But with you, and now with the baby..." He trails off, then looks me directly in the eyes. "I want to try. To be someone worthy of you both."
My heart beats faster at his words. "And what about the club? The violence? The danger?"
"That's complicated," he acknowledges. "The club is my family, my life. I can't just walk away, especially not now with the Vultures situation."
"I wouldn't ask you to," I say, surprising myself with the realization. "But I can't raise a child in that environment, Ryan. I won't."
He nods slowly. "I understand that. And I don't want our kid anywhere near that life either." He hesitates. "Maybe there's a middle ground. Separate worlds but connected."
The idea of compartmentalizing our lives that way feels strange, but not impossible. "How would that even work?"
"I don't know yet," he admits. "But I want to figure it out. For the baby. For you, if you'll let me."
I stare at his face, searching for signs of deception or uncertainty, but find only earnest determination. This man, who lives in a world so different from mine, is willing to try bridging that gap for a child he never planned to have.
"What exactly are you proposing?" I ask, needing clarity.
He takes a deep breath. "I want to be involved in the pregnancy. Doctor appointments, preparations, all of it. I want to be there when our child is born, and I want to be an active father afterward."
"And us? What do you want from me?"
His eyes soften. "Whatever you're willing to give. Ideally, I'd like to see where this could go between us. Dating, building something real. But if you just want me involved as a co-parent, I'll respect that too."
"Dating," I repeat, testing the word. "Me, dating a dangerous biker."
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Sounds like the beginning of a bad romance novel."
Despite everything, I laugh. "My mother would have a heart attack."
"Wait till she meets Viper," he jokes, then sobers. "Look, I know this is a lot to process. I'm not asking for an answer right now. Just... think about it?"
I nod, feeling some of the tension ease between us. "I will."
He reaches across the couch, his hand palm-up in invitation. After a moment's hesitation, I place my hand in his, our fingers intertwining naturally.
"There's something else we need to discuss," I say, gathering my courage. "The danger. These Vultures MC."
His expression darkens. "I won't let them hurt you or the baby."
